A Witch and a Traitor
by helvengurl
Summary: Murtagh was a grim traitor. Angela was a quirky witch. All they needed were a few times together. Need I say more? My specialty- Murgela Fanfic. I gave BIRTH to them.
1. Chapter 1

Say hello, to one of my obsessive song fics! Murgela is my FAVORITE odd ship, and when I found nothing on here for them, I felt sad  I love my MurtaghxAngela! And So, I shall present you with (Dun Dun Dun) my newest Murgela fic! (Don't ask about the first one. It was a parody/fail from hell. How it ever got featured on Shurtugal Fan fiction is BEYOND ME. Really. Truly. BEYOND.) Anyway, I'm putting Owl City quotes at the top of each chapter, and then, 'modifying' the quote at the bottom. This chapter's quote is from 'Super Honeymoon'

_I was the youngest son of a congressman__  
__And everything was my fault...__  
__She was a gymnast, happily swinging__  
__On the uneven bars, tucked in a somersault_

In the courtyard, alone and stretched out in the sun, he looked so peculiar. Well, I like peculiar, I suppose, but this was a saddening peculiar, one which struck me as a true testament to his life; lonely and isolated. Unlike the other days, the Courtyard was not filled with humming, cheery maids, and tittering nurses whispering about the rumors of the Battle.

His trial was not yet scheduled, and I, for all my infinite 'wisdom' did not understand why he was to be tried. Did he not turn at the last moment, sticking the cursed blade through the traitor's heart before Galabortorix lopped off Eragon the Dolt's head? Was that not proof enough of his innocence? What was Roran babbling on about, 'His crimes against humanity'?

I grabbed a few pots of mine, and some herbs, and headed out to the courtyard to banish his dismal attitude. "Hello, Murtagh." I smiled cheerily at him and Thorn as I went to work trying to light the wood- but to no avail. "Toadstools." I muttered. The wood was slightly damp, not much, but enough that I could not start a fire efficiently without a blazing inferno.

Murtagh had yet to answer me, which both annoyed and intrigued me. Bouncing over to him, I ignored my pots and herbs and fairly sat on him while trying to get up on that darned rock. "Whatever are you so grim about?" I pestered. It is in my experience, when one does not talk to you, it is best to pester them with nonsense until they understand you will not leave without an answer. Most of the times they assume you are crazy, but I prefer the term, 'quirkily shrewd'. It sounds ever so much more pleasant, no?

He apparently was lacking intelligence at the moment, for he simply cast me a wary glance and scoffed. I furrowed my eyebrows. Most peculiar, indeed. After a few moments of silence, I went to open my mouth and expound on why toads are frogs and therefore do no evil in witchcraft, but he cut me off, sitting up and contemplating the stone wall around the courtyard (which I, for one, did not understand. What was so interesting about monotone grey walls?).

"Grim? Perhaps it is because I have no doubt that my death rapidly approaches."

I shut my mouth, cocking my head at him and giving him a curious once-over. "Angela, I really believe you should stop spending so much time around Solembum. You're beginning to act like a feline." I grinned to myself. If only he knew.

"How can you be so pessimistic about your own race?" I could think of no other response that seemed suitable.

He shook his head, "I choose not to live a naïve existence, is all. And have you been around Eragon too long, or are the rumors of your wit greatly exaggerated?"

"You, sir, are very rude."

He actually grinned at me.

"But no, I can assure you they are not, for I just received what I came here for." Now it was his turn to look at me curiously.

"And what was that, Witch?"

I grinned triumphantly, "To prove your muscles have not forgotten how to smile." I poked his cheek, and the other one, drawing the corners of his mouth up into a rather comical grin as his eyes said clearly, 'Angela, what herbal steam have you been inhaling?'

"Ah, that's it." I did it several more times. "As an herbalist I prescribe this exercise to be done twice a day and after every meal. Drink chamomile tea before you do this though, to relax your muscles. You don't want to sprain your smiling muscles, do you?"

He shook his head at me, "You crafty, kooky witch."

I grinned and bounced off the rock, bounding over to my pot and crouching down to attempt to light it again. I looked up to see Murtagh nod sagely to Thorn, who then hesitantly said to me _Angela, please move so I don't hurt you._

I gave him a startled look, and then said stoutly, "I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

Murtagh waved his hand and muttered something and Thorn blew a stream of fire at the pot, setting the wood on fire. I went to jump back, but found somehow, the fire moved around me, and when it disappeared, I gave Murtagh a sly grin. I don't know if he thought he was being sly, or if he knew he was being goofy, but he shook his head at me, and performed his 'exercise' of a wide smile.

He seemed rather teachable. I suppose that general stubbornness did not come from Selena, but Brom. Seems fitting to me, that old dolt. Maybe I should visit his grave at some point, if only to thank him for his dragon's knucklebones. Oh the hissy fit Eragon would throw if he knew.

Perhaps I should tell him sometime.

I think Murtagh would enjoy it.

_I was the youngest son of a Forsworn, _

_And everything was my fault._

_She was a Witch, happily stirring,_

_All her burbling pots._


	2. Chapter 2

_If you're my girl, swirl me around your room with feeling__  
__and as we twirl, the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling__  
__will shine for us, as love sweeps over the room__  
__'Cause we tend to make each other blush, you make me blush__  
_

I grabbed the closest thing which held a liquid and poured it on my bit of half-finished weaving. Sadly it happened to be a vase of lilacs. "Angela!" Nasuada exclaimed.

"Darn…" I mumbled. "Maybe if I coat my fingers in wax while I spin the thread…" The fabric was sopping wet, and I pulled it off my loom and tossed it away.

"Angela! What _are _you doing, and will more of my flowers be a victim?"

I blinked at her for a moment, "Isn't it obvious, Nasuada? I am attempting to make waterproof fabric!" She just stared at me with apprehension. "You see, if we have waterproof fabric, our clothes won't get wet. A lot of house fires are the product of someone hanging their wet clothes near the fire. So, obviously, if I make it so the clothes don't get wet, then house fires would decrease! Plus," I twirled around happily, "I could dance in the rain and not have to worry about getting a cold from wet clothes!"

Nasuada nodded her head sagely, and then settled back into the chair. "You are indeed enlightening company, Angela."

I hardly heard her, because I was attempting to figure out how I was supposed to make the darn fabric waterproof. "Maybe I should study more leaves…" I murmured to myself.

"I heard you were in the courtyard with Murtagh the other day." Nasuada said.

"Mm hmm…" I blankly murmured to her.

"What do you think of his intentions?" She pestered.

"I wouldn't have the slightest idea, Nasuada." I grinned at her, "That's what makes it so interesting!"

"That's what makes it so dangerous, Angela. Do not take too heavy a liking to him. I have the feeling no matter what the council will not agree to allow him to live."

I pursed my lips. "Nasuada, you know I respect you greatly, but I will not allow any harm to befall someone whom I have taken a liking to." I did not realize how grave my face and voice had become.

"Which is why you are not to take a liking to him, Angela. It's too dangerous."

I smiled brightly, "How exciting!" I exclaimed, and wandered off, leaving my loom in the throne room.

I ran down the halls, dreadfully disappointed that Nasuada had no Urgalian weavings on the walls. They would liven up the plain stone so well! I ran into Eragon a moment, and gave him a blink before running on down the hall. "What are you doing, Angela?" he shouted after me.

"I am doing what I am doing. What else would I do?" I yelled back. He may have shaken his head at me. I don't know. I was already out of his line of sight. He probably was shaking his head at me. He was such a teacup.

I also crashed into Elva, who was rather glumly plodding down the hall. I grabbed her wrist and kept running. She had gotten so used to this, that she simply took it silently. She didn't even ask what we were going to do. To quote her, "It becomes only more deranged each time Angela gets an idea" I would take offense, but I like deranged thinking. It is ever so interesting. After all, who wants to hear a boring story following the same line of think that half of Alagaesia has? Why not have some terribly interesting lines of thought no one else can comprehend?

Thundering into my room, I went about, pulling herbs off the wall, muttering to myself. "Comfrey… yes, should do… mint, yes, Shrrgs fur, just a pinch." I stared at the pot for a moment. "Elva, some water please! And start the fire!" She moodily went about doing as I had asked her.

I needed a chameleon. Badly. I knew there was one in the palace menagerie. Well, there would be a little bit of a challenge in getting to him, but I was sure I could handle it. Running down to the menagerie, I quickly located it, and reached through the bars to him- but he wouldn't budge.

"Come here, little one. Come here. I won't hurt you, just come to the witch, pleas-"

"What _are _you doing, you fool?"

I turned around quickly, to see Murtagh looking at me with a bit of surprise. I took a deep breath and did some quick thinking. "Have you been performing my exercise?" I smiled, and he also rolled his eyes, before goofily smiling. I couldn't help but giggle. "Very good, you aren't as hopeless as Eragon!"

Murtagh peered over my shoulder. "So what is in here that is so special as to warrant Angela the Witch's attention?"

I narrowed my eyes at him a moment, before I hunched down and pointed at the chameleon. "Him."

As though anyone needed more of a reason to think me crazy, Murtagh simply blinked. "Your objective is a lizard?"

I gave him a cross look. "No, my objective is something brand new and exciting which has never been done before."

He hunched down and matched my whisper, "And that would be?"

Surreptitiously glancing around, I whispered in his ear, "I am going to make an ointment that makes one invisible."

His voice got lower, "But one can do that with magic."

I harrumphed. "Not if you don't know magic!"

His eyes fairly popped out of his head. "Angela, you don't know magic?"

My eyes got large and I put a hand over his mouth quickly. "Horehound and toadstools, Murtagh! Can you watch your volume?"

His mouth just dropped, "Angela, that all-powerful, reasoning Witch that managed to poison the whole of the Empire's army, doesn't know magic?"

"Well, in all honesty, my magic is my ability to make sense of things which seem to make none. Therefore, if Magic is used in the loosest term most understand, I know and use magic quite well." I smiled widely. "There. I win."

Murtagh grinned, and I turned to get the chameleon, but he was nowhere to be found. I turned around, and it was my turn to be flabbergasted. "You may win the reason war, but I have the chameleon." I harrumphed again. "What is it that you call this action you keep doing?"

"What action?"

He shrugged his shoulders, gave a rolling sigh, and finished it off with a bit of a sour look. "That one."

"Oh! I call that harrumphing. Harrumph harrumph harrumph. It's a singularly enticing word, isn't it? It's almost more fun to say than do!"

He handed me the chameleon. "Well, here you go. Look into learning magic, even simple magic, Angela. It'd make retrieving peculiar animals much easier."

He walked away. Cradling the chameleon, I shouted after him, "Or I could lug you around with me!"

"I bring bad luck, you silly witch!" he shouted back, not once pausing or faltering.

"That's okay! Bad luck makes sure things aren't ever boring!" I looked down and patted the lizard's head. "I think I'll call you Emeraude, because you're such a pretty green!"

A few days later, I emerged. Nothing could contain my giggling joy as I ran through the halls. I had a jar in my grasp, I skidded to a halt in front of a window, and looked out to see Murtagh sitting on a stone wall.

"Excuse me sir, you look rather glum and as though you could use some cheering up. I don't know, but sometimes that exercise on its own isn't quite enough. Sometimes you need a healthy dose of insanity." I perched in the window.

"You have plenty to spare, don't you?"

I grinned, and leapt. "Only if you catch me!"

"Letta." He said and I froze mid-air. Hopping down from the wall, he reached out gallantly and lowered me to the ground. "Magic," he grinned.

I opened the jar, dipped my fingers in, and ran them down his face. I poked him right between the eyes. "Reason!" I exclaimed.

"But Angela, I can't see it in my own face!" He smiled again, and I sighed. "Don't you carry a mirror around in your back pocket?"

"I'm not vain, Angela!" he waggled his eyebrows, "Unless you think that I have a reason to be vain, that is?"

"Ugh." I pushed his face away, smearing stripes of the ointment down his face. I giggled at him again though.

"What precisely is so funny, Angela?" he demanded, and I laughed harder.

"Look at your reflection in the fountain!" I managed to gasp. He rolled his eyes and walked over to the fountain, and peered over the edge.

"Angela, what have you done?" he cried. For a moment I was puzzled and I stood up to find out why he was so cross. "Angela, hand me that jar." He said. I don't know why, but I did. Did the ointment make him unhappy? Peculiar. I thought he would laugh at it.

"Well, _someone_ is unnecessarily cross today!" I harrumphed and put my hands on my hips. His shoulders started shaking.

"Angela, don't you know not to trust boys with nothing to loose?" My smile fell. Was tis what Nasuada was talking about? Was this why I couldn't take a liking to him?

He turned around with a wide grin on his face, and a hand full of white gloop. He threw it at me, and it splattered on my bodice. I was flabbergasted. "You-" I pulled out another jar, "You toad! You had me worried!" My midsection already looked like the stone wall behind me. My ointment realty wad good, wasn't it? I grabbed a handful of gloop and tossed it at him, and it hit his shoulder.

We grinned and flung and smeared it all over the other, until we were all out of ointment. I lay on the ground, panting, and trying not to giggle anymore. Then he just looked at me, before he actually started laughing- all by himself without prompting from me. "Angela, your face looks like grass."

"Well, yours looks just right!" He gave me a confused look, "It looks like a hunk of stone." I giggled.

"You crazy witch!" He grinned and went to tackle me, but I rolled out of the way and hopped to my feet, twirling away from him. "I win again, Murtagh! I do believe the score stands 3 to the crazy witch and 3 to the morose dragon rider." I reached down to help him up. He pulled me down and pinned me on the ground.

"Make that 4 for the morose dragon rider."

"You haven't won anything yet. All you did was pin a girl to the ground. Oh-" I said sarcastically, "-even Eragon can do that, he's done it to Arya enough times, the poor girl!"

"Well, I'm just thinking of a suitable punishment for you saying my head is a cold hard rock! Holding you here like that ensures you don't run away."

"So would sitting on me, you dolt." I sighed.

"Oh, shall I?"

"Wait- no! You'll shmush me, you rock!"

He grinned. "Well, I could think of other advantages to this position." He grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

"You are so much like a normal man."

"Well, would you like it?" he asked.

"No, not in the least, you blockhead." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Then it would be a fitting punishment!" He leaned closer.

"You are a pig, Murtagh!"

"You are so darling when you're blushing." His eyes twinkled.

"I am not blushing!" I shouted.

"Yes you are." He let go. "Well, if you are blushing, then obviously it's not a suitable punishment!"

I sighed again. "You, are, so, ARROGANT!" he looked at me, bemused. "Just because you're a dragon rider doesn't mean I would fall over myself or even stand for you to give me an unsolicited kiss! That is the worst thing to do! Why, where do you get the idea that I would even like to-"

He grabbed my hand and bowed, the pressing of his lips against my hand silencing my rant. "You are correct, Angela, I should not have done that. Would you forgive me?"

My jaw dropped, and I hastily pulled my hand away from him. "Well, I suppose I can forgive you." I went to make my retreat, but found I turned back to look at him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Murtagh"

"I doubt so. My trial is tomorrow. They're already preparing the executioner as we speak." His voice almost was inaudible. He turned and gave me another one of his sad smiles.

I clenched my fists at my sides, and screwed my face up in an ugly expression. I stomped my foot. "They can't do that, Murtagh. It's not right!" I grabbed his shoulder and gripped hard. "I won't let them kill you, Murtagh."

I didn't know why I was so upset, I hardly knew him- a fact he was all too eager to point out. But, somehow, he was the most interesting thing I'd seen in a long time. He hugged me as I stood there, fuming. "Don't worry about it, Angela. You shouldn't make such an angry face. I'm okay with it. You see, you made me very happy tonight. Thank you."

I smacked him. "You're a dolt! An absolute dolt! Life is too precious for you to just sit around and wait to die. You shouldn't be so fine with this! You're supposed to want to live, Murtagh. Not just die! Think of all the sad faces you'll leave behind."

He looked down on me a moment and said quite seriously, "I won't leave any behind, Angela. That is why I am fine with it."

"Well, you'll have one." I gave him a stubborn look.

"Well, it won't last for long." He bent down and pulled me up to him, kissing me as roughly as he could. I pushed myself away from him, and raised my hand to smack him again. He gave me a stubborn look. I dropped my hand immediately.

"I should smack you. You don't do that to people." I was in a decidedly foul mood. "But I guess it's wrong to smack a man who will die soon." I turned and stomped out, pausing at the door leading into the castle.

"Goodbye, you crazy witch."

I didn't say anything, and stomped back into the castle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, my lovely readers! Today's excerpt is from 'Saltwater room' and I had a hard time cutting down the song! Therefore, the beginning quote is terribly long, but all very relevant. Please, I beg you, spend just the extra five seconds and open that song in another tab, and listen while you read it. The new YouTube layout may be a pain in the ass, but it makes it so much better!**  
_  
__Time together is just never quite enough__  
__when you and I are alone,__  
__I've never felt so at home__  
__what will it take to make or break this hint of love?__  
__We need time, only time__  
__When we're apart whatever are you thinking of?__  
__If this is what I call home,__  
__why does it feel so alone?__  
__So tell me darling,__  
__do you wish we'd fall in love?__  
__All the time, all the time___

_Can you believe that the crew has gone__  
__and wouldn't let me sign on?__  
__All my islands have sunk__  
__in the deep, so I can hardly relax__  
__or even oversleep__  
__I feel as if I were home__  
__some nights__  
__when we count all the ship lights__  
__I guess I'll never know__  
__why sparrows love the snow__  
__We'll turn off all of the lights__  
__and set this ballroom aglow_

I knew there was no way something as big as what was occurring today would be without my attendance, however, with a sinking feeling; I knew it would not be good. With a world so full of teacups, how could someone who had already condemned themselves be saved? How was I able to save someone who no one cared to save?

Storming to the throne room, I tromped to Nasuada, and demanded, "Do you want him dead?"

She gave me a blank stare for a moment, before finally comprehending what I was saying. "No, not particularly, Angela."

"Then don't let him. Veto whatever decision is made!" My fingers sunk into her arms.

"Angela, it is not so simple! This is the first real trial, the first real test of this system. If I am to prove this rule will not be like Galabatorix's, I can not stand in the way of the council; only try to persuade them to see his case." Her eyes flashed with steeliness. There was no use to further corner her; she would not bend her country for a single man.

I withdrew from her and pointed my finger at her, "Whatever decision is made today will have a great effect."

"That sounds like a threat, Angela."

I stormed away. He had no right to kiss me without my consent- I could chalk it up to a desperate man's last wish, but it was still wrong- and yet the thought of them killing him still enraged me.

Running into Solembum, it took one look at me with his eyes- those eyes which had looked on me my whole life, which knew my whole being better than any other- and he knew what to ask. _Will we return home?_

I nodded my head. "With Elva, at least."

_Shall I go ahead and arrange it, and meet you back halfway?___

"Yes, please." And he sauntered off around the corner, head held high, tail in the air, and a prance in his step. He longed for home so, but he had followed me so faithfully. He had followed me too faithfully. It was a faithfulness home would require me to repay.

Home was both so far away, and something I could never escape. I had run from it, and now I would run to it. I was an escapist, a coward who fled any problem that she did not like the given outcomes to, and tried to hide it with quirk.

Elva turned around abruptly when I stormed into the room. "Elva, pack what you need, and pack lightly. We are going home." She blinked.

"What home, Angela?"

"Why, our home!" I shook my head, "Silly Elva!"

"I have no home, Angela." It was my turn to blink. She spoke at times so like a child- and others with an eerie maturity I myself had lacked.

"I'm your home, aren't I?"

"Don't make such a foul face Angela. Are two shoulder bags fine? Will we be back?"

"I'm your home, aren't I?"

"Should we bring the herbs, Angela?"

"Elva!" I yelled, and she turned peculiar eyes back to me.

"Don't ask a question you know the answer to, Angela." She paused, "Should I pack your things as well?"

"We aren't coming back. Pack only the items you know I can't leave behind. And pack jars of the invisibility ointment as well. Pack the writings too- Thank you Elva."

I heard the trumpets fanfare. The Council had gathered, and the trial would occur. I would not miss it. I could not. I sat behind a column at the back, the debating beginning- he was a symbol of the old reign, he was a traitor who had betrayed the Varden, and he had laid many a battalion nine feet under. They were undeniable truths, yes.

But also he had spared Eragon when he should have killed him. He endured horrible pain and had repented. He had dealt Galabatorix's death blow.

But he was the son of Morzan.

The shadow of the father created the son's darkness tenfold.

I found I could not form words, only sit there aghast at their flawed reasoning, at the whole bunch of quagmires! I should have stormed out and spoken- harshly! Dazzlingly! I would leave them all stupefied with my logic and reason! They could bend my way!

But I was utterly hopeless. I was incapacitated with a dull rock in my stomach.

"Death is the only suitable compensation. He is the only remaining memory of the pestilence which afflicted us. We will be rid of him in an hour's time."

This all transpired over hours of nothingness, of darkness, and I did not utter a word. Not a one.

I heard chains in the nearly empty room, and I heard a quiet sigh behind me. Twilight dawned starless- a suiting sky for such a terrible deed that would take place. "Finally, she has no words."

I looked ahead, not daring to look at the terribly interesting person who would soon be no more. "You should use your magic and escape now. Quick!" Urgency seized me.

"No, Angela. If this is what must be done so that I am not a cowardly traitor, then it will be done." I wouldn't let myself cry over such an interesting bauble.

I pounded his chest and stomped my feet and made sounds of frustration. "You aren't a cowardly traitor! You're a lousy kisser but not a traitor!"

He laughed again.

"What's wrong with you, you dolt? You're about to die and all you can do is laugh!"

"I'd almost say that you're concerned for me, Angela. Anyways, isn't this what you wanted? Me to smile?" He cocked his head to the side, "You're such a peculiar witch, Angela."

"That's my line, you pain! And yes, I wanted you to smile! I wanted you to smile and not die!" I stomped in circles. He grabbed my hand, and crouched so he could look up at me.

And he burst into laughter again. "Is that a pouting face, Angela?" I screwed my face up. He was acting so much older than me again. He stared at me a moment. "Angela, I'm sorry for confusing you by kissing you last night. I should not have involved you more than you already were. I would have kissed anyone, because I'm a desperate, dying man. I do not want to die without giving an appropriate apology to you."

I smacked him again. "That's for thinking something as simple as one lousy kiss would make me confused."

"Are you quite done smacking me?"

"No. I will smack you at least three more times before I let you die."

"You had better hurry then, they'll be here soon."

"No. They can't kill you until I'm done with you. You're my bauble."

"You are so childish sometimes, Angela, thinking you can change the world with your insistence."

"Well, you are so childish for wanting to throw away your life, so there." I stuck my tongue out at him. "Meow, meow."

The door clanged open, and the guards came in. Murtagh turned from me and went to follow them. Hitting the pillar, I sucked my tears back. "Angela, you are a fool!" I berated myself.

And he was out of my sight.

He was going to die.

But not without my say, that dolt! He couldn't die without my permission. How impertinent of him!

I ran and bounced and elbowed my way along the corridors, packed with people wishing to glance on the traitor's head before it rolled. Damn them all.

I pushed them out of my way, bouncing to catch a glimpse of his head – but saw only a black tuft of hair. Damn them all. Rats, the whole lot of them.

I made it to the front of the castle before he did, somehow. I ran into Eragon, who sat there with a cold mask on his face. "Stop them. Stop them with Magic, Eragon."

He looked at me for a moment. "I can't, my oath to Nasuada binds me. I can not break the laws of this country, and this is a law." He looked away, "However, Nasuada also brought me to the chamber room last night. She happened to tell me that should a certain black-haired witch intervene, I was to make sure her head was not lopped off as well."

My eyes popped open. I ran to Nasuada, who sat at the front with a pale face. "Stop them, Nasuada."

She turned from me, gazing to her right at the sky, "There appears to be a large red beast in the sky, Angela. I swear there's a purple-eyed girl on there as well. I swore an oath that I would not look on idly while the laws of this country were broken, Angela. However, it appears I am looking at the sky. Do you understand?"

Those two built me a back door with their oaths! Those clever fools! Those clever, clever fools! I should have informed them of the ulcers they give me, be seeing as how there was no time to waste, I sprung up onto the stage, and threw myself over Murtagh. "STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!"

"Drop the weapon." I looked up to see Eragon holding his blade to the executioner's throat. "You can't harm the witch."

A streak flew down from the sky, someone yelling "Jump, Angela!" and for once, I obeyed without question, hurtling backwards while holding onto Murtagh as tightly as I could. With a dull thud I landed on the streak, and blacked out. They all give me such a headache.


	4. Chapter 4

**I know, It's terrible, another long intro quote, but I was listening to Hot Air Balloon (YouTube it) and realized, if possible, I found a **_**better**_** song, and it fits this chapter! I know my endless searching for the perfect lyrics to open each chapter leads to a long wait between updates- but oh, if you follow my YouTube advice, I try to pick perfect songs to make it all better. **** Plus, if it helps, I write while listening to the songs. Also, When I heard they were on an "old maroon hot air balloon" my eyes bulged out of my head. Considering they're now riding Thorn away from the castle, I was laughing and thought, "Most. Epic. Ever. Period."**

_We wrote a prelude__  
__To our own__fairy__tale__  
__And bought a parachute__  
__At a church rummage sale___

_I lit a match, then let it catch__  
__To light up the room__  
__And then you yelled as we beheld__  
__An old maroon__hot__air__balloon___

_So bored to death you held your breath__  
__And I tried not to yawn__  
__You made my frown turn upside down__  
__And now my worries are gone___

_I'll be out of my mind__  
__And you'll be out of ideas__  
__Pretty soon__  
__So let's spend__  
__The afternoon in a cold hot air balloon__  
__Leave your jacket behind__  
__Lean up and touch the treetops over town__  
__I can't wait__  
__To kiss the ground__  
__Wherever we touch back down__  
_

Groaning as I sat up, I gasped as I almost fell down, only to be caught by Murtagh. One look confirmed that it was not just one of my vivid dreams (Although perhaps this was still a dream. It presented a possibility). I looked back, expecting to see Murtagh there, happy to be alive, only to see him glaring at me.

"Well you could thank me. You're still alive." I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Yes, I can thank you that now I_ really_ am a traitor, a coward, and we are now going to be trailed by bounty hunters and you're in trouble too. So, thank you so much, Angela."

"I told you it only gets more deranged as time goes by, Murty." Elva said flatly.

"Well, you're _alive_." I huffed.

"Did it ever occur to you perhaps I didn't want to be alive?" He asked.

I swallowed, and glared back at him. "Nothing is worth death, you imbecile."

"Then you haven't seen what I've seen." He countered.

"What's been seen by us makes us who we are, and no matter how bad it is, we must better ourselves for it. It's a very simple concept, Murtagh." The thrumming of Thorn's wings was relaxing. I perched up in the saddle.

"Sit down you fool!" he yelled.

"You and your magic can catch me if I fall."

"That doesn't mean you _tempt_ it!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You wouldn't let me fall, and there is a new mystery for me to unfold."

"Must you understand everything you come in contact with?"

"Yes." I crawled forward, Thorn noticeably slowing as I did, until I lay down stretching across his back. I could hear air rushing through him, like he swallowed it almost.

"Angela, be careful, you're going to-"

"Ouch!" I sat up quickly, falling off the side as I did so.

"Letta!" He yelled, and it was as though I hit an invisible wall in the middle of the air.

He grabbed my hand, looking behind him at the horizon as he pulled me up. I wiped the blood off my face where Thorn's scale had caught and cut it. "See, I said you'd catch me." I grinned triumphantly.

"I could have sworn you planned that." He muttered as he turned my face toward him, examining the deep cut along my cheekbone. He muttered something in the ancient language, and the flesh knit back together. I was surprised that he had thought it was severe enough to heal himself. I harrumphed (Oh how that word never gets old!) and looked away from him.

"What if I had wanted that scar?"

He blinked stupidly at me.

"Well? I have always wanted a scar on my cheek below my eyes. I've wanted to masquerade as a pirate on a real boat and all. But thanks to your healing, I can't do that."

"Why would you want to be a pirate, Angela? And why would you need a scar for that?" His voice was becoming more and more confused. The dragon thumped on the ground, and without hesitation, I leapt from his back.

"Well, if I go on with such an adorably feminine face how will I be able to fend of the men?" I said matter-of-factly. "And anyways, pirates lead that bad-luck exciting kind of life. Bad-luck exciting is always better than good-luck exciting."

"You mean bad-luck exciting, as in harrowing sea storms, being hunted down, killing rampantly and if you get caught certain death? That kind of exciting?" He deadpanned.

"Well I wouldn't kill anything. Or anyone." I said.

"Well you wouldn't blend in, you foolish herbalist." I threw a rock at his shoulder blade.

"I am not foolish, and you are not permitted to call me that. I don't want to pull out my herbs on you!"

"You won't kill me. I'm not afraid."

I glared darkly before I smiled deceivingly cheerily at him and turned away. "I'm off to get food."

"You just said the wrong thing, rider boy." Elva said in that same, flat tone.

Indeed.

**Apologies to Thorn, you are cooler than a hot air balloon (although a hot air balloon with Adam West is pretty awesome), and you should not be grouped with them, but it's hard to find a song about a red dragon! Cut me some slack!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so good, aren't I? I actually updated! With school starting, I'll have more access to a computer (figure that one out, ha-ha) so updates will be quicker. YAY. Murtagh is laughing at the oddest things in here. I'm not so sure what happened. I guess my perception of Murtagh is odd. Also, I have always imagined Thorn **_**much**_** differently than most- I figured the way he would alleviate his rider's pain is by being a smart mouth, so forgive me, but that will be the general Thorn. However, enjoy this and please, laugh, laugh, laugh! This quote is "Rugs from me to you". It's funny and really cute.**

_And if I may quip, my curls and I are just like heaven__  
_

_'cause rest assured, they'll be no parting there__  
_

_But should my head get bare like Friar Tuck, _

_Hard cheese __to swallow,_

_it makes me smile 'cause I know just what I'd __do_

_Yeah if I had more wigs than I knew what to do with I'd_

_open a second hand store__  
_

_And if you ever went bald you'd recall it 'cause I'd__  
_

_cleverly call it "Rugs From Me To You"_

We sat around the fire, staring at the pot and waiting for the soup inside to finish boiling so we could eat it. Thorn apparently found silence as unbearable as I did, because he kept going on about how heavy it was to carry us.

_Angela, do you carry rocks on your person at all times? And where did you keep that pot? I felt it all the way! _

I started to giggle. "And here I expected you to be all regal and stuffy like Saphira! You're a regular bowl!"

Elva sagged when Thorn said, _Bowl? A bowl? I cease to find the flattery in that!_

"Well you see, people are teacups, and-"

_But I am not a person, Angela, I am a dragon. _Thorn said matter of thought that was the most hilarious thing he'd heard and laughed heartily as I stood there with my hands on my hips, glaring at him.

"Are you both _quite _done so I may continue?"

Murtagh stifled his laughter for a moment and managed to say, "He does have you there." He took a deep breath, and with a bemused smile, nodded yes.

"Well then, where was I…? Ah, yes! People- _And dragons_-" I gave Thorn a pointed stare, "both tend to spend their lives simply doing what is comfortable and never believing things out of the ordinary. Therefore, their minds are ridiculously small. A pea of a mind! The size of a teacup!" Thorn gave a funny choking sound and for a moment I thought he was about to expel something from his throat; if it wasn't for Murtagh unsuccessfully trying not to laugh, I would have been quite concerned. "What is it now?"

"Thorn wishes to know why vegetables are in humans brains. And if somehow, that contributes to the overall lack of intelligence thereof." Murtagh stated before laughing again. Somehow I imagined if Thorn was a human all the fun they would have had, sneaking around the nooks and crannies of the castle, pulling pranks on the guards. Who knows, perhaps they had. I essentially knew nothing of them.

"I am not justifying that with a response." I said stiffly, "But if I were to respond, I'd say yes, that seems to be quite a good reason. Now, I will continue without interruptions. Anyways, should you experience and believe many impossible things; your mind will grow wider, into a bowl. One day I hope to have an ocean of a mind, but as of late I've been loosing my muchness and as a result, my mind isn't moving past its current state of a large boiling pot."

_So… Your mind is a boiling pot, and mine is a bowl? And you want yours to be an ocean, but your muchness level is preventing that?_ He laughed._ I don't understand you one bit Angela, however you amuse me, so I will put up with your pots and rocks._

"You are cantankerous, you know." I accused.

Somewhat boredly he commented, _the pot of soup is about to boil over._

I ran and pushed it off of the fire, added a few more herbs, and gave everyone a bowl. I offered Thorn a bowl as well, and he reluctantly ate it commenting on how, _Humans should know better than to cook their meat,_ and then flew off to get himself a deer.

Soon we all fell asleep quite soundly. At least, until I heard Thorn roaring with laughter the next morning.

I woke up, noticing my hair was this bright green- quite a perky color I hadn't expected. I liked it. I turned to see Elva sighing and looking at her purple hair with a bit of reluctance to her face. "You could have left me out of your plans for revenge." she sighed. "I'm going back to sleep."

I turned to see Thorn- who was stunning silver now and still laughing loudly. "Where is Murtagh?" I asked. I had of course stuck some herbs and fueldunst fur into the soup, hoping the odd colored hair that resulted from ingesting it would singe Murtagh's backside. Thorn lifted his tail to show Murtagh, looking _quite_ displeased with his pink hair. I laughed. "You won't call me a foolish herbalist again, will you?"

He grumbled something and punctuated it with "Brazul." His eyes nearly popped out of his head, "Angela, your hair is green! And Elva's is purple! How are we supposed to go undetected?"

"Oh don't get worked up, Murty. It wears off in a day. We can walk through the forest then. Be quiet so I can sleep more." Elva monotoned.

"You are without a doubt the most annoying herbalist I know." Murtagh slumped against Thorn.

"Watch it, because next time I'll make you sprout cat ears." I warned.

_Well, I for one, feel I look quite distinguished. _

"Well, you're the only one, Thorn." Murtagh said and then turned over to shun me for an hour or so. He was _such_ a child.

**Hehe. Please r&r!**


	6. Chapter 6

**You all better love me. I have this adorable chapter for you. And three more after this, I just want to polish them up. I'm intending to have them out by the end of the week, as a huge thank you to all my sweet readers who follow Angela and Murtagh with me. I lost my muse for fanfiction for a while, planning out my original stories really took precedence. Also for those of you I did PM but never got back to; especially the sweetie Restrained Freedom, life was very hectic and unfortunately has not gotten much better. However, It's time to use my writing to make me happy again, so I will try my best to write more for you! u; If you've not re-read this story for a while, You may want to. I hint at the plot that is coming in by the end of this round of updates. This story is about to pick up past introduction and character building. It will still remain the quirky and lighthearted read you all love and expect, but it's time for the couple's trials to begin! This chapter's song is "Dear Vienna"  
**

**All of you please don't hate me for what's coming, ;~;**

**~Helvengurl**

EXTRA NOTE: This chapter has been a little bitch to format correctly. So if you notice any strange formatting, please PM me or drop a review.

_I regarded the world as such a sad sight_

_Until I viewed it in black and white_

_Then I reviewed every frame and basic shape_

_And sealed the exits with caution tape_

_Don't refocus your eyes in the darkness_

_And don't remember this place unless_

_I describe all the things that you cannot see_

_And we'll unravel the mystery_

* * *

Within two days we had traveled quite a ways. In fact, we were approaching Terim. Usually I had babbled senselessly to pass the time- or at least, according to others it was senseless. I highly disagreed. Murtagh looked over his shoulder with yet another of his grim, stern looks.

For some reason, I found, each time he looked over his shoulder, I wanted to smack him. "Whatever are you doing?" I asked him, tilting my head. "Well, never mind that, it looks dreadfully boring." I drug out the last word as long as I dared, before pointing to a rock that had cracked open,a dazzling group of purple hued crystals poking rebelliously out of the dull grey exterior. "It looks absolutely fantastical!"

Purple is another of those lovely words, as well. Purple purple pur- _She travels with a rider and his highly attractive and far more fantastical dragon, and a rock is fantastical?_ Thorn huffed, his pride bruised slightly.

I ignored him, reaching down and observing the rock more carefully, before hitting it against another rock. Nothing happened, not even a crack. I hit it a few more times, though Murtagh glanced distractedly over his shoulder the entire time.

For a moment, just a moment, I was almost annoyed he wasn't paying attention to me. "What, precisely, are you doing?" I demanded.

"Checking our trail, like normal people on the run do." He said quietly, his eyes scanning the forest behind us.

I sighed, "Well stop it, I have something important for you to do. Break open this rock for me. Please." Murtagh gave me a look as though I had just crawled out of my own skin.

"There's no point in-" Elva attempted to warn her, but Murtagh brushed her off.

He shook me by the shoulders. "What is wrong with you?"he enunciated clearly, as though all the shaking would addle my brain. He let go of me, stacking his hands on top of one another, leaving an inch of space between them. "Here-" he moved the bottom one, "Is a normal person. When a normal person runs from the law, they check behind them. Here-" he moved the top hand back and forth, "Is a stupid person. They still check behind them. Here-" Murtagh suddenly stuck both his hands above his head, waving them back and forth, "Way, WAY up here, in this general, lofty area, is where you're at. Opening rocks is not more important than making sure you remain alive. Please come all the way back down, to here." he put both his hands down to the lowest level he could.

Elva was snickering, from her place by Thorn. Thorn's shoulders rolled a bit, but I could tell both were trying to contain it. I blinked, before handing the rock to Murtagh. "Could you open this please?" Murtagh sagged, grabbing the rock from me and throwing it against another rock, and it broke in half.

"Oh, Thank yo-" Murtagh grabbed my face, shaking it lightly.

"For gods sake look at me! Now that the sparkly things aren't distracting you, listen. We are outlaws." He spoke the last three words slowly, so I could let them sink in. "There are, right now, many many people looking for us. Whether for the thrill, because they really hate one of us, want the reward money, or want knighted, we don't know, but that's a whole lot of things right there, that appeal to just about every young man in Alagaësia. Probably a few of the older ones as well. Not to mention, an army. Rocks are not important." For a moment I considered kissing him, just to shut him up. It would be effective, I knew, but I could hardly lecture him on his unsolicited kisses if I gave out a few of my own. "Do you understand?"

I blinked a few more times, before nodding. He let my face go. I walked over to the rock he had broken for me, and picked it up. Murtagh was cursing dejectedly. I brought over one half and put it in his hand stubbornly. The inside was filled with a cluster of purple crystals.

"You're so damn busy looking over your shoulder you miss the fantastic things in front of you. There's a lesson in this stone. I was going to tell you what it was, but you figure it out." I turned around to walk away, "Unless, that is, you want to come and learn from me, in which case, looking over your shoulder is not allowed, unless you do so while upside down."

I pointed in the general direction of Terim. "And we're going to get supplies at Terim."

Murtagh looked over at Thorn as though to beseech him. "And leave Thorn out of it, you big clodhopper." I stated, turning and heading for my old shop in Terim.

Elva sighed. "I tried to warn you, rider. Never, ever say she's foolish."


	7. Chapter 7

**Angels, by Owl City~3 And, a special little treat, the next chapter is written from Murtagh's point of view.**

_In the dust on my cellar staircase_  
_A pair of footprints followed me_  
_I saw a flicker in the fake fireplace _  
_Blinked again, but there was nothing to see_

_I've been leaving all the windows unlocked_  
_With a basket by the oak tree_  
_'Cause I'll be picking up the acorns that fall off_  
_If you'll be climbing up to meet me_

* * *

Mutragh clutched his cloak to him, retreating into it as we approached the gate of Terim. Elva had chosen to follow along later, if she decided Thorn wasn't the best company. I twirled up to the gate, awaiting it's familiar creak as it opened.

"Who goes there?" A particularly squat guard demanded.

I blinked at him. "You're even smaller than me!" I circled him, nodding as his face turned a shade of crimson that clashed highly with his shirt. "Here!" I plopped a hat in his head, pulling his shoulders back andsnapping his glaive in two.

"Wh- WHATEVER ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled, jumping to retrieve his weapon. I gave him a solid whack on the head.

"Making you taller." I said. Murtagh clutched his cloak around himself, looking at the floor. I could hear him cursing under his breath. I placed the glaive in the guards hand and tipped his chin up.

"There, if you stand like this at the gate, by the end of the week you'll be a strapping six feet tall! It's all in the muchness of your hat, you can't take the hat off. Witches orders, you know." He looked completely ridiculous in the most interesting way possible for such a small man. I gave him a wink.

He glared at me, and I kissed his little bulbous nose. He really looked so ugly it was adorable, in a strange way. He blushed and waved a signal to the gate operator. I tugged Murtagh through, happy to be home. Terim had prospered with all the new reconstruction unnecessary all over the land. The streets were filled with wagons, horses, and people. I gave a spin and twirl as I headed to my home; that small shop I had filled with my oddity. No one should have entered. I had made a big to-do about 'cursing' the place before I left.

"I thought you didn't do unsolicited kisses," Murtagh spoke lowly beside me.

I put my hand on my hips, harrumphing. "I said I don't do unsolicited kisses. I never said I don't use what womanly wiles that I have."

"Womanly wiles?" Murtagh scoffed. "You have about as many womanly wiles as a hen."

I stuck my nose up and walked ahead of him. I did have womanly wiles. I had them in bucket-loads! In fact, the only thing I had in excess aside quirk were precisely those womanly wiles he claimed I had so little of.

"Oh, _touchy_, I see?" Murtagh poked the words at me like I was an aggravated cat.

"No, you're just a blind ass." I spat out at him, walking at a clipped pace to my old shop. Maybe if I was lucky, he'd walk is annoying face off a pretty, confidently placed little cliff and- well... Well, fall until he soiled himself and then floated back up so I could laugh at him. Murtagh was quiet.

And _damn _him to a hell of being buried in frogs, I would prove to him I had womanly wiles.

I banged the door open violently, stomping into my old shop. Everything was coated in a healthy layer of dust. I saw a particularly large spider in the corner. "Well hello there!" I told him. "My name is Angela, and your home is right over my safe." I tried to explain to him, before I gently picked him up. I let him scurry across the counter. Murtagh looked unamused at best. I opened the safe in half a second, pulling out some of the hoard of cash I had squirreled away for traveling purposes.

"That's a small fortune!" Murtagh exclaimed, blinking at me.

"I suppose it is." I stashed it in my traveling bag, and the scrutinized our reflections in the large mirror on the wall. I stomped over to Murtagh. It took me a full second to untie his cloak. He pushed my hands away, backing into the wall behind him.

"_What in the hell are you doing, Witch?_" He half-growled at me.

"Fixing you up. If you look like a tall dark misfit, you'll draw attention. Did you not want me to take notice of these things earlier?" I planted a hand on my hip, arching an eyebrow at him. It was my best sort of 'you stupid _imbecile_' look. "Now will you let me or are you going too look at me as tough I have suddenly turned into green and purple plaid monster?"

Murtagh reluctantly stepped away from the wall, glaring sullenly at my forehead.

"There's a good frog." I patted his head, as he sighed. I slowly undid his armor. I had never seen him without it. I let it clatter to his feet loudly, sounding like a pile of pots falling to the ground. I could feel the strands of his too-long and far to shaggy hair against my cheek as I struggled to get his shoulder guard off.

His breath against my shoulder and neck proved confusing. It sent unfamiliar tingles through my neck and to the tips of my fingers. I was aware of it, every time his arm moved- for a second it occurred to me, he just might be going to give me another of his unsolicited kisses. When he didn't, there was a superficial assurance of relief, but in the back of my head, that infernal question of _'Why?'_whispered to me. After I had finally undone his armor, I grabbed a vest and threw it at him, though despite his fine armor, I found the clothes underneath were just as cruddy and riddled with holes as any commoner's.

I was still not convinced he looked satisfactorily common, with all that mass of shaggy black hair trailing down his neck and back. I grabbed a dagger, quickly shearing off a good three feet. "I liked that hair, you know." Murtagh stated, resigned to his fate.

"Well, I did too." I stated, with a bit of a huff, "But everyone is searching for a Murtagh with long hair." I continued shearing off hair until it was jaw-length and looked like the shaggy hair of a carpenter. "Here. Nearly unrecognizable." I pulled my hair into a tie, then chopped it off as well.

Murtagh blinked at me, his eyes half bulged out of his head as I began to undo my dress. "Don't you have a shred of dignity?" I chuckled.

"What, that old thing? No, it's for old men and royalty. And annoying elves." I began to slip my dress down. "If it bothers you, look away."

Murtagh laughed, sitting in a chair. "Oh no, I'd never hear the end of it." An amused smirk spread across his face. For a second, the thought that stripping to my underthings in front of him was a bad thing. I continued, anyways, pulling out an old shirt, worn leather traveling pants, and a warm vest. I did at least have the decency to turn so he didn't see anything particularly scandalous.

I shimmied into the pants, laced them up, and then pulled my (entirely too large) shirt over my rump. I turned to Murtagh, pulling on my vest and grabbing my vest. "Time to get supplies." I said, walking out the door. The only proof we were there was the hair sheared off on the floor, the open safe and spider quickly crawling over to re-make his home, and the footprints in the dust. Murtagh caught up after hiding his armor.

"Now, firstly we need to find a place to purchase gumption..." I trailed off, looking into the stores. Murtagh only shook his head.


End file.
